Ford’s Terror Lay Day 2

Time to stretch our legs—today’s exploration was on solid ground. Instead of bouncing around in the dinghy, we set out to walk the grassy spit guarding the entrance to East Arm.

Landing on the spit guarding the East Arm in Ford’s Terror

This low-lying spit leaves only a narrow, rocky, shallow pass navigable by dinghy at slack—or by gutsy sailors with a well-timed plan. Endless Song, anchored just inside, had managed it like a pro.

S/V Endless Song tucked into the anchorge inside the entrance to the East Arm

We easily beached the dinghy and strolled the spit, watching the ebb tide tear through the pass at 4–5 knots. Submerged rocks disturbed the surface just enough to mark their presence, giving us a good look at the line we’d use—someday—if we ever decided to poke into East Arm ourselves.

Next up: the waterfall. We cruised to the base of the dramatic cascade we spotted on our way in. It’s all mist, roar, and granite—a classic Alaska scene. We even mused about whether the flow would hold a boat bow-to if you dropped anchor nearby. Tempting.

Curiosity then led us to the narrows—the infamous Ford’s Terror entry. Still ebbing hard, the rapids boiled and frothed just beyond the dogleg. We edged as close as we dared before spinning the dinghy and giving the outboard a burst to break free. It was useful recon—we’ll be heading back through there tomorrow.

Final stop: the shrimp pot. Jackpot! After a 20-hour soak, we pulled up 33 sweet, soft-bodied Coon Shrimp. Easier to peel and, in our opinion, even tastier than spot prawns. Being ultra-fresh didn’t hurt either.

All told, it was a 10.7-mile adventure by dinghy and foot, packed into three hours of classic Alaska exploration.

Back on board OceanFlyer, we noticed Endless Song flick her AIS back on and start creeping toward the narrows. Her track showed her hugging the south shore as she slipped through the tight spot, then she motored over and dropped anchor nearby. A few attempts were needed to find holding, but she finally settled in close to the west wall.

Looks like we’ll have company in the morning for the run out of Ford’s Terror. Not a bad way to wrap up a near-perfect day in one of Alaska’s most spectacular anchorages.

Ford’s Terror Lay Day

Karen was up early and, out of curiosity, scanned for AIS targets. Sure enough, Endless Song, a Canadian-flagged sailboat, was creeping into inner Ford’s Terror and headed straight for the East Arm. It’s a beautiful, one-boat anchorage—but known for uncharted rocks and tricky depths. To their credit, they took it slow and made it in without issue.

The skies were partly sunny—an invitation to enjoy a lazy morning. Karen had a bit of remote work to do, so we soaked in the view while she tackled a project surrounded by jaw-dropping scenery.

low morning clouds hugthe water

ford’s terror surrounds you with magnificant scenery

the river valley that feeds into ford’s terror

Over on Lituya, our neighbors launched kayaks and paddleboards for a shoreside dog walk and paddled by to say hello. They're based out of Juneau—friendly folks enjoying Alaska’s best, just like us.

In the afternoon, we dropped the dinghy and headed over to scout the East Arm. We could spot Endless Song’s mast, but strong tidal flow at the entrance ruled out any safe approach. We did find a temporary tide gauge set up near the mouth and took a closer look—always interesting to see science in action in such a wild place.

Lituya had mentioned prawning was decent here, so we set a pot before the wind kicked up and the water got sloppy. We took the long way back, hugging the shoreline to admire the cliffs and cascades.

Back aboard OceanFlyer, we noticed our stern was swinging a bit too close to the shoals for comfort. With Lituya departing, we made the move to their now-open spot, where the outflow from the creek keeps boats pointed safely away from shore.

low tide in ford’s terror

the river joins the flow from the waterfall on the right to create a steady flow that can hold your boat aways from the flats

With the prawn pot soaking overnight and no other boats in sight, we settled in for a tranquil evening. The entire West Arm was ours—a rare and magical kind of solitude you only find in places like Ford’s Terror.

Tracy Arm Cove to Ford’s Terror

Today’s cruise was all about the tides. To safely transit into Ford’s Terror, you’ve got to hit high slack precisely—there’s no winging it here. Using Wood Spit as our reference (it’s the closest reporting station), we planned to arrive in the outer bay around 5:00 p.m. and run the narrows at 5:30. With high tide at 4:49, we split the difference between the commonly accepted slack window of 15–60 minutes after high.

There’s no shortage of advice these days on timing the entrance—blogs, photos, AIS tracks. Maybe even too much info. A few nights ago, Marine Traffic showed nearly 10 boats inside. We were hoping for a quieter experience.

The ride up Endicott Arm was easy, with just a few bergy bits and stunning views of the hanging Sumdum Glacier. As we arrived at the holding spot outside Ford’s Terror, M/V Lituya was already there. We soon spotted Salty Dawg blasting through the narrows a bit too early for our taste, followed by three small fishing boats making a wild dash through the whitewater.

Lituya, on the other hand, had a calmer approach. After chatting on the radio, we agreed to follow her lead—she’s made the run multiple times. Right on schedule at 5:30, she moved in. I tracked both our course and her AIS track—they aligned perfectly.

Our transit was smooth. No current, no drama. But Ford’s Terror saves one last twist after the 90-degree dogleg—another shallow stretch that keeps you on your toes. Once through, the reward hits you: towering granite walls, cascading waterfalls, and an ever-unfolding landscape that shifts with every bend. It’s jaw-dropping.

Karen reported no less than 18.5 feet under the keel at a 14.7-foot tide. Respect the timing, follow the track, and this passage is far more awe-inspiring than terrifying. Honestly, they should’ve named it “Ford’s Narrows.”

We continued past the eastern fork to the head of the basin, anchoring in 100 feet near the northwest shore. Lituya took the waterfall side, which we gladly left open as thanks for guiding us through. We had the place to ourselves—just two boats surrounded by Alaska at its best.

The evening was calm and beautiful, with the waterfall providing both a soundtrack and a view. We raised a glass to checking off a true bucket-list destination. Ford’s Terror delivered in every way.

Tracy Arm Cove to Sawyer Glacier

Today’s mission: visit both North and South Sawyer Glaciers—or at least get as close as the ice will let us. It’s been nearly two decades since our last run up Tracy Arm, and we were eager to see what’s changed.

Based on the lack of icebergs in the cove and a few fast-moving AIS targets yesterday, we suspected the arm might be pretty clear. Sure enough, we enjoyed a smooth ride all the way to Sawyer Island before the ice started making an appearance.

Just beyond the island, we spotted the MV Odyssey—the full-time residence cruise ship—parked in the pack ice. We hailed them on the radio to let them know we’d be holding off a safe distance to launch the drone. They appreciated the heads-up, and as we recovered the drone, they spun around and began their slow turn out.

M/V Odyssey stops for a view of south sawyer galcier

With South Sawyer still looking clogged, we made a detour up to North Sawyer. No ice, but also no close approach—the glacier has receded quite a bit. Still, the scenery was striking, and we enjoyed another drone flight in the solitude of the north arm.

hard to appreciate the scale of these large glaciers that dissapear into the distance

“close up” of the north sawyer glacier showing the rivers of ice that feed it face

must have photo of Oceanflyer in from of the north sawyer glacier

We returned to South Sawyer and managed to work farther in this time. The ice had thinned a bit, but it still wasn’t glacier-face-close. As we began nudging bergs with the bow, accompanied by the unnerving grind of ice on hull, we took that as our cue to retreat.

Under surprisingly sunny skies, we made a calm run back to Tracy Arm Cove and dropped anchor in the exact same spot as the night before. A Canadian-flagged sailboat, Endless Song, passed us on the way out—otherwise, it was quiet.

By evening, the cove was bustling. The Slowboat flotilla rolled in, bringing the total to 11–12 boats, yet there was still plenty of room for all. A big day, a beautiful place, and a night shared with good company on the hook.

evening low tide and sunset in tracy arm cove

Tracy Arm Cove Lay Day

Rain and low clouds made the decision easy—today was a lay day.

it one of those days

We’re holed up in Tracy Arm Cove, waiting for a break in the weather before heading up to the glaciers. Forecast says the rain will lift tomorrow, so we’ll hold here and let nature reset the stage.

It’s clear the constant rain is wearing on more than just us. We’ve noticed cruising blogs we follow shifting tone—entries getting shorter, photos fewer, and even the bravest “we love all weather” attitudes sounding a bit soggy. This temperate rainforest reminds us who's in charge.

tracy arm cove, a.k.a. no name cove, is always popular with boats staging to see glaciers

Still, no complaints. We stayed dry, spirits stayed high—and not a single iceberg wandered into the cove.

Tomorrow, we chase ice.